Mr Secretary
by McgeeIsMyFave
Summary: Timothy and Cassie, their three children, new jobs, and a new time for the McGee family. No.6 in the Bad McGee/Good McGee universe
1. Chapter 1

"Todd, what on earth possessed you? You just wait until your father sees that." Timothy McGee heard his wife yelling at his oldest son, and despaired. Todd was nothing if not trying, and he tried his mothers patience at least once a week, twice when he was bored. "You better think about your plans for the next week, because you are grounded." Tim heard his son stomping through the house, knowing he would come into his study, and say very little. Tim continued reading through his papers, knowing his son would speak to him when he was ready. Unlike his wife, Tim rarely shouted at any of his three children, unless they did something really dangerous, stupid or both.

"Hi, Dad." Tim looked up at his seventeen year old son, noticing the bleach blonde hair he had gone to school with, the bright blue t-shirt with black skull, the dark purple jeans with supposed stylish tears in them, and he also noticed the very new eyebrow piercing.

"Grounded, huh?" Tim asked, both of them knowing they had heard the voice of NCIS Director Cassandra Yates McGee.

"Yeah, one week, which means no computer, no cellphone, no tablet, no technology of any kind," Todd William McGee had been through this before.

"You were well aware when you left the house this morning that your mother told you not to get any kind of body piercing," Tim said, seeing his son nod in acknowledgement. "Yet you went and got your eyebrow pierced, now you live with the consequences."

"And what punishment have you devised for me?" Tim rarely punished his children, but when he did, they learnt from it.

"Not sure, but trust me, the next time your mom or I say no, we mean it." Tim knew Todd hated Washington, DC. After having lived in Brussels, Berlin, and Paris for the first fifteen years of his life, Todd could barely think of himself as an American, as it was always the country he visited, the country his mom and dad served, the country he had been born in, but had no actual memories of it.

"Dad, when are we going back to Europe?" Todd almost whispered this sentence, knowing the answer was going to be _don't know_ or _not sure yet._

"For me and your mom, probably on vacation, for you?" Tim hoped his son was happy with the next sentence. "How about college?" Tim watched his sons face light up, the smile brightening up the room.

"What?"

"Look, when we lived in Europe you never dyed your hair, or got piercings, or answered back, or been a right pain in the ass you have been the last two years," Tim knew his son hated living here, and was determined to make his son happy again. "So, apply to colleges in France and Germany, and if you get in, you can go with my blessing."

"But, mom said I had to apply to US colleges only, because of the security concerns," Todd hated his diplomatic security agents.

"The security agents go where you go, and if you go to Europe, so do they, got it, Sailor?"

"Yes, Dad." Todd McGee really loved his father, and his mother, but he hated the fact that they had to move back here because his mom got promoted.

* * *

"Can you believe him? An eyebrow piercing? What are we going to do with him, Tim?" Cassie questioned her husband, one of the most powerful men in the United States Government, and the world.

"Send him to Germany with our love," Tim told her, looking over his reading glasses at the woman he had been married to for nearly twenty years.

"Tim, trust me, if I could ship him there tomorrow, I would. I love him with all my heart, but he is really trying my patience, right now," Cassie confessed. She had struggled over the years with her career and her family, and both Tim and she had nearly resigned more than once, but with the help of nannies and their families, they had managed it.

"Cass, he never wanted to leave Paris, he screamed the house down when we left Berlin, so I told him to apply for European colleges, and if he gets in, he can get his college degree in France or Germany," Tim told her, keeping his voice calm when speaking.

"No, Tim! No! Absolutely not! That will cause so many problems with the DS agents!" Cassie almost shouted.

"I could give a damn!" Tim exploded, his voice louder than his wifes. "We've uprooted our children three times in their lives, Todds four if you count the move to Brussels before he had even turned one! They have had to be escorted everywhere for most of their lives, from school trips to birthday parties, to out shopping with their friends! Yeah, Todd has grumbled the most about it, but he has always gone along with it, even when we have had to say no to him." Tim was trying to quieten his voice down. "But now it's his time not to do something he doesn't like. He is dying to move back to France or Germany, so I say we let him." Tim would support his son on his choice of college, and fight his wife every day if he had to.

"Tim, he would be alone over there," Cassie said, her eyes filling with tears.

"Cass, he would be there without his family, but he would never be alone. He has kept in touch with every friend he has made over the last seventeen years, and he makes a new friend every day he leaves the house. Our son will never be alone" Tim opened his arms for his wife, which Cassie almost ran into, neither of them liking it when they shouted at each other.

* * *

"Andrew, L.J, Todd, we are leaving in fifteen minutes, get your gear together," Tim shouted across the landing and up the stairs. Andrew McGee, thirteen years old, and a wannabe NCIS agent in training, popped his head out of his bedroom, smiling at his father.

"Dad, is mom working tomorrow?" Andrew was hoping to go into NCIS HQ again this weekend.

"Not if I can help it, why?" Tim knew his son wanted to go and sit in the bullpen with the MCRT team.

"No reason," Andrew muttered.

"Uncle Jimmy is on call tomorrow, and so is Aunty Bryn, if they get called in, and they don't mind, I'm sure they will come and tell you all about it on Sunday," The McGee and Palmer families always dined together on Sundays since Tim, Cassie and their children had moved back to the States.

"Cool!" With that, the youngest McGee carried on getting ready for school, his bedroom on the same floor as his parents.

"Don't forget, I have the chess competitions after school, then I'm off to the soup kitchen, then down to the shelter, I'll be home about nine," the middle McGee child said, coming down the stairs. Leon Jerome McGee was the middle child, fifteen almost sixteen, and a political activist in the making. L.J.s room was on the second floor, the same as his older brother.

"It's all written down on the calendar, but I'll remind your mom later today." L.J. had gotten his name when Jerome Craig and Leon Vance had been killed by ISIS terrorists three weeks before his birth. Director Craig and Deputy Director Vance had been present at the opening of the Jennifer Shepard Building, the new complex at FLETC that would oversee all of the NCIS training for its newest agents, analysts, technicians and employees. The terrorists had waited until the two men were leaving the FLETC grounds, before launching shoulder mounted missiles at their cars. The two men, Tanya Craig, Jackie Vance, sixteen NCIS Protection agents, and thirty three others died that day, all within minutes of each other. The eight terrorists had all been killed moments later, when other NCIS and federal agents opened fire on them, taking them down in a hail of bullets.

"And remind her, she promised the whole family would eat at least one vegetarian meal once a week, not including breakfast," L.J continued, "This hasn't happened in three weeks." Tim knew his son wasn't a vegetarian, but he also did not want to eat meat with every meal.

"OK, then you make it," Tim offered. "I'll help, but you have to get the recipe, and help me shop for the ingredients, deal?"

"Deal!" Tim and L.J. shook hands. "Tomorrow?" L.J knew Saturday nights were the one night of the week the whole family was present for food.

"Sure, but we are up and out shopping by ten in the morning, Airman!"

"Yes!" L.J. took his victory, and continued downstairs, having his stuff ready for school, and for after school, too.

"Todd, you coming down?" Tim called up the stairs.

"Yeah, be there soon," Todd shouted.

"OK, meet you by the door," Tim shouted back. Cassie had been out of the house by six thirty, leaving Tim on the school run. Tim would drop Todd and L.J. at the Anna Elliott High School, before dropping Andrew at Candlewell Preparatory School. Andrew had chosen the school himself, after seeing the science and athletic programs, choosing his school on what would help him become the best NCIS agent there ever was.

Tim hoped his youngest son became an NCIS agent, at least there would be another generation of McGees in the agency. Tim knew his son would have a hard road ahead of him, his mother was the current director of the agency, his father had been head of Intelligence, and his godfather, Jim Nelson, was one of three Deputy Directors. Instead of putting him off, the successes of his family spurred him on. L.J., Tim guessed, would be fighting for the weakest people in society, those whose voices went unheard, and Tim knew he would be proud of him. Todd had been like his youngest brother, a future law enforcement officer, but with Interpol. The move to the USA had changed the then fifteen year old, and Tim wondered what his eldest son would do with his life now. He hoped his son found his future back in Europe, otherwise he would be very worried about his oldest child.

Tim picked up his travel mug, along with his briefcase and laptop bag, put an apple and banana in his bag, before looking around the kitchen. He spotted Andrews sports bag on the table, picking it up, as well as headphones, putting them in his bag to give to his children in the security agent driven blacked out SUV. As Tim left the kitchen, he entered a different world. Andrew was telling L.J. about some new level on a MMORPG, but doing so in German, while L.J. answered in French. Tim was very proud of his children, all of whom spoke German, French and Dutch as fluently as they did English.

"Todd! Come on, we're waiting for you!" Tim shouted in Dutch, just to add to the language contest being held in the McGee household that Friday morning. Tim heard a door slam, followed by heavy footsteps, indicating Todd was on his way. He passed Andrew his sports bag and L.J. his headphones, knowing his second son loved his music. "Andrew, Aunty Sarah is picking you up after soccer practice, and either me or mom will pick you up from her place. L.J., use the Stonewall Attack in the final game only. Do not use it in the first round. Todd, no more piercings, please?" Tim asked, his other sons smirking at their older brother. "Or tattoos, or any kind of body art, modification or decoration. Understood?" Tim knew Todd could find loopholes in straight lines.

"Understood," Todd muttered.

"If your body has changed in anyway between now and when I get home, your college choices will shrink to nothing," Tim threatened.

"Got it," Todd knew his dad would carry out his threat.

"Right, everyone got everything they need for the day?" Tim asked, knowing one of his sons would have forgotten something.

"No! My Germany report! Hang on!" L.J. ran back up the stairs, having forgotten his report on his former country of residence. "I left it out last night to check it over," He shouted down the stairs.

"We'll read it in the car," Tim shouted back. "Todd, remember, L.J. is at the soup kitchen and the shelter tonight, so you will be here on your own until your mom or I get home first."

"I know. I'll get started on my homework, and make a start on dinner," Todd McGee had learnt how to cook from his father, being the only household chore he actually enjoyed.

"Good man, don't forget, look up colleges at school, your punishment only includes the house and your friends," Tim reminded him. "Andrew, no investigating at school, observational skills only." Tim and Cassie had been called in over Andrews "interrogation" of a "suspect", when their youngest son had carried out an investigation into a missing pen, and the thief burst into tears when confronted with "Agent Andrew Bradbury McGee, NCIS".

"Great, another boring day of school." Tim knew Andrew wanted to be at work with his mom than at school with kids his own age, but until he turned eighteen, he went to school.

"Todd, I want you to look at advanced placement classes for colleges. French, German and Dutch should be a breeze for you, as will the math and computer science classes. See what's being offered, ok?" Todd had almost eighteen months before college, but Tim wanted him to have a head start, if possible.

"Yeah, no problems, Dad." Tim noticed every time they spoke at college, Todds mood improved, and Tim made a note to discuss college options with him every day.

"Just go to MIT like Dad," Andrew said. "I'm off to Johns Hopkins to study Computer Science, then to MIT for my Masters in Computer Forensics." Andrew had been telling everyone for the past two years of his college plans, and they had not changed once.

"Yeah, well, Marine boy, some of us want to do something other than computers," Todd told his littlest brother.

"Like what?" Andrew shot back.

"I'm not sure yet, but trust me, it won't involve me writing computer code for four years." Todd was very good with computers, both him and his brothers had watched and learned from their father, being able to create firewalls for their own computers from the age of nine.

"Got it!" L.J. jumped the last three stairs, landing with a dull thud on both feet. "Ready, for sure this time."

"Right, let's go," Tim watched Andrew opening the front door, as the security agents opened the other front door, the one that had been installed when the family moved in.

"Morning, Chris," Andrew said he walked to the car.

"Morning, Andrew, L.J, Todd, Mr Secretary." Chris Drury had requested the assignment upon Secretary McGees confirmation, knowing the assignment would be one that most agents would turn down, having three children to keep safe was an assignment most agents hated.

"Morning, Chris, how's Molly and Jemma?" TIm always asked his head of Protection about his family.

"They're doing fine, Sir." This was the most Chris spoke about his family, always trying to keep his focus on the McGee family when at work, rather than the Drury family.

"Good to hear. L.J and Todd first, then Andrew, then me," Tim told him the plan for the morning.

"Understood, Sir." As Tim climbed into the car, he heard Chris giving orders through the almost invisible face mic worn by all agents, rather than the old style where they were on the jacket lapel, or wrist cuff.

"L.J., want me to read the report?" Tim knew the report would be outstanding, unlike all of his classmates, L.J had firsthand experience of Germany, and nearly all his classmates couldn't even speak the language, to any degree.

"Sure, but it's boring," L.J. told his father, putting his headphones in. Andrew was talking to Chris and Arianna Hay, their driver for the morning. Todd was looking out of the window, his tablet and laptop in his bag, and his phone in Tims pocket. Tim and Cassie knew their son would use them for non school purposes at school, but they couldn't catch him at it. Cassie hated the fact, while Tim was impressed with his computer programming abilities.

Ten minutes later, L.J. and Todd were heading into school, L.J. holding the report that would get him an 'A', and probably be first in the class for the report. Andrew was still talking with the agents, and so Tim got started on his emails for work, knowing to interrupt his youngest would put him on the end of one of his death glares.

A further ten minutes, and Andrew was waving his dad goodbye, while Tim waved back. Once the car turned the corner, Tim took a breath, dismissing his 'Dad' persona, and putting on his 'Secretary' face on. Tim knew when he accepted the nomination, that it might cause some problems. His wife was the Director of NCIS, the first African American woman to be appointed as an agency Director, his father was a former Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, his godfather had been the Secretary of the Navy, Tim, himself, had been the US Ambassador to the European Union for five years, to Germany for eight years, and to France for a further three years. Tim had enjoyed the positions he had held, uprooting his family and his wife due to his job. When Cassie was offered the position of Director, Tim had told her to take it. Tims post in France was coming to an end, due to the election of Jeffrey MacIntosh, a Democrat, who won the election with three hundred and seventy three electoral votes, and the biggest popular vote in American history.

When the President began putting his cabinet together, Timothy McGee was approached on the day after the election, to consider the nomination for his job. He and Cassie had talked about it for the rest of the week, before talking to their children about it. They all knew it would change their lives even more than they had been, but the family all agreed to Tims job, and Tim had accepted the nomination. His history of public service, his time as an Ambassador, his successes with NCIS Intelligence, the CTOC, and his time as a member of the MCRT Washington, DC, all became front page news, and his books, all nine of them, returned to the New York Times bestsellers list, with Deep Six hitting the number one spot, and staying there for three weeks. Tims confirmation with the Senate was the quickest in history, and Tim secured a one hundred confirmation, with not one Senator opposing his nomination. Tim was the only cabinet member to receive this blessing from the Senate. Tim had been in the job for two years, and had managed some successes with his role, some were made public, most were kept quiet, in order to avoid embarrassment for other countries, and sometimes, the good ol' US of A itself.

Unlike most of his fellow secretaries, Tim had no political ambition, and made it no secret that he would not be seeking the Presidency or Vice Presidency at the end of his term. The Democratic Party had been trying to get his support for various Senators and senior Congressmen and women, as Tims approval rating was still in the high seventies, higher than the President himself. Tim never bothered with the polls, knowing most foreign leaders never cared what his approval rating was, or which Senators and Congressmen and women he supported.

"Mr. Secretary, we're two minutes out," Chris said from the front of the SUV.

"Thank you," Tim had asked for this warning ever since he was given a Protection detail, knowing the protectee was most vulnerable in a stationary car, and so Tim was always ready when the car stopped, jumping out and following the lead agent into a building, and rarely stopping to sign autographs or pose for selfies, unless his agents had given him the go ahead.

When Tim stepped out of the car, he walked straight into the building, his briefcase in one hand, and his laptop bag hanging over his shoulder. Tim was stopped by Carole Johnson, his media secretary.

"Good morning, Sir," Carole was well aware of Tims preference for good manners before all else.

"Morning, Carole, how are you today?" Tim smiled at the woman, knowing Carole rarely met him at the front door.

"Worried, Sir. Your sons eyebrow piercing has been photographed and liked almost one million times worldwide," Carole told her boss.

"Well, one of those likes does not belong to Mrs McGee, I can tell you that," Tim told her.

"I've had more than ten requests for your feelings on childrens self mutilation, as well as on body art, Sir." Carole had wanted to cry that morning, knowing Todd McGee was taking the mantle of 'problem child' to a whole new level.

"Great, all the problems in the world, countries suffering from child hunger, child illiteracy and the biggest number of children with AIDS in the world in history, and my sons piercing is the news of the day. Tell them he did it without his parents permission, has been grounded and has been told no more, but like any parent knows, children don't always do as they are told." Tim rarely sugarcoated the truth to the public, and he would not do so now. "Any other issues I need to be made aware of?" the seventy third Secretary of State asked.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello, everyone._

 _A MASSIVE THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! After a very long week in work, I returned home last week to discover I have been nominated as Favourite Newbie Author in the Fanactic Fanfics Multifandom Awards. I had no idea my stories were enjoyed enough to receive this nomination. Again, a massive thank you for the nomination, as well as the support for the stories written. Please check out the awards at fanaticfanficswards. blogspot. com (remove spaces). Thank you if you vote for me._

* * *

"Good morning," Tim called to the room, his senior staff gathered for the morning briefing. "Where are we with the trip to Europe?" This was something he had not told his children, keeping it a surprise until it had been confirmed.

"Italy, Spain, Portugal, France, and Germany have all confirmed, the dates are fine," Mark Carr spoke first, Tims deputy chief of staff.

"Belgium and the Netherlands, along with the UK are also fine with the itinerary," said Jonathan Gupta, Tims half Indian, half American chief of staff confirmed. "Also, the British government want to give you a state dinner at Windsor Castle, with members of the Royal Family in attendance."

"Well, I don't think 'no' will be an acceptable answer for that one, so that's a yes. Make sure everyone knows the protocols for the dinner," Tim was doing his first full tour of Europe as the Secretary of State, having visited many countries in two years, Tim had arranged the tour to coincide with the summer break for his children, and was hoping to get Cassie to join him for some of the tour. "How goes the search for our new Mexican Ambassador?" Ambassador Crichton had resigned due to health issues, and the post was currently being filled by the head of mission, who had told Tim he did not want the post.

"So far, very few people have shown an interest in the post," Deirdre Kirk was the person in charge of the Bureau of South America, and was tasked with drawing up the shortlist for the new Ambassador.

"Well, narrow down your choice to people who deserve the promotion, who speak Spanish fluently, and who want to have my gratitude. Send me a shortlist by Tuesday," Tim had wanted a shortlist for the President by the end of the day, but knew the post would be a hard one to fill.

"Sorry, Sir, I have Ambassador Cardenas calling for you," Mason Black was Tims executive assistant, and the one person who seemed to know what everyone else was doing at any given point. The ability reminded him of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, who, Tim last heard, was living in Hawaii with Hollis Mann. Tim stood from the conference table, moving for his office.

"Johnny, Mark, with me, thank you everyone," Dismissing everyone else, Tim headed through the connecting door to his office. "Did they say why the Ambassador is calling?" Tim asked.

"No, but Ambassador Cardenas told me he would wait on hold for you," Mason told him. Tim knew this was a serious matter.

"Great. Johnny, Mark, not a word, actually, step back a few paces, I'm putting him on speakerphone," Tim stood behind his desk, watching as his two senior advisors kept a fair distance. Pressing the speaker button, Tim began speaking, "Mr Ambassador, a good day to you, Sir."

"It was, Secretaria Senor. Would you care to tell me why the US Government launched a covert operation on Spanish soil without any approval or notice?" Tim had been unaware of any operation.

"Mr. Ambassador, I am unaware of any such operation taking place," Tim admitted, being caught completely flat footed.

"Then allow me to tell you that Navy SEALs, Marines and your NCIS agents arresting Spanish citizens will not be tolerated. Spain has been a friend and ally of your country for many years, and yet you have violated our sovereignty in this manner, sneaking in under the cover of darkness. Your Defense department and NCIS are ignoring my calls, as well as the calls of Prime Minister Fernandez Diaz," Tim knew this was going to be a bad day. "Timothy, it has taken me more than three hours to stop the Prime Minister from speaking to the press about this matter. I trust you will be able to assuage my concerns over this matter?" The Ambassador asked.

"Mr. Ambassador, I will personally call yourself and Primer Ministro Fernandez Diaz once I have some news. Thank you for the call, Jorge," Tim was livid at that moment. Tim heard the call tone, letting him know the call had ended. "Mason!" He shouted. "Not a word to anyone," He ordered the other two people in the room.

"Sir," Mason had entered the room.

"Get me Admiral Wilson, General Marks, Director McGee, Director Coulson and Doctor Janney, I need them all at the same time, on the conference screen. You have five minutes," Tim barked, knowing this was going to be a very serious conversation involving his temper. "Mark, find out what you can, quietly." Watching the two men leave, Tim turned to Jonathan Gupta, his former chief of Staff in Germany and France. "Johnny, what the hell is going on?" Tim queried.

"I have no idea, I have had no briefings on this matter. I've read no reports on persons of interest in Spain. Have you?" Johnny knew Tim read more reports than he did, as he was a member of the National Security Council, and the Cabinet, and had a higher security clearance than himself.

"No, not a one. Let's hope I get some answers. In the meantime, speak with someone at DOD, and speak to Admiral Inverdale, let's see if the Chairwoman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff knows anything," Tim dismissed his Chief of Staff, and waited for the teleconference call to begin. Even after two years, Tim hated having to call Cassie like this, and reminded himself to always call her Director. Tim poured himself a coffee, knowing that his chances of getting out early today had diminished greatly, but he would do his damnedest to get out of the office before six.

"I have everyone, Sir," Mason said from the door.

"Thank you, Mason, close the door, and do not come in, even if I call you, understood?" Tim told the young Princeton graduate.

"Understood, Sir." Mason had only worked for Timothy McGee for nine months but was already loving his job and his boss. Tim grabbed his tablet, accessing the teleconference feature, and at the press of a button, five people appeared on the large plasma screen.

"Thank you all for agreeing to the call. Admiral, General, how are your sailors and marines?" Tim was going to see if anyone would be forthcoming with the information he requested, or if he would have to ask them directly.

"Fine, Mr Secretary," responded the Chief of Naval Operations, his fathers old position.

"All are well, Mr Secretary," Answered the Commandant of the Marine Corps.

"Director McGee, Director Coulson, your staff, all well I hope?" Tim was watching the whole screen, seeing some very uncomfortable faces. The director of NCIS and the Director of the CIA both nodded in the affirmative.

"Doctor Janney, I trust you are fully recovered from your cold?" Tim asked the National Security Advisor.

"Very much so, Mr Secretary," Doctor Samson Janney was not a medical doctor, he had two PhDs, one in Middle Eastern Studies, and a second in Political Science.

"The five of you have anything to tell me?" Tim asked again, deciding to see their reactions when he dropped his bombshell. Hearing no answer, he spoke once more. "Very well, then I will tell Prime Minister Fernandez Diaz of Spain that he was mistaken about US Naval forces carrying out a covert operation on Spanish soil. Thank you, once more, for agreeing to the call," Tim went to end the call but was stopped by one voice.

"You have spoken to the Prime Minister?" The NCIS Director asked.

"I have spoken with the Spanish Ambassador, but I will be speaking to the Prime Minister after I have spoken to the President. After all, we cannot have any country casting allegations like this around, can we?" Tim was more than happy to stay in the dark regarding the operation. "As a member of the National Security Council, I am sure I would have been briefed about an operation on foreign soil, especially in a country with whom we have extensive diplomatic agreements with. Therefore, the only conclusion I can draw is that no operation happened, and the Spanish authorities are in the wrong." Tim rarely raised his voice as the Secretary of State, it had happened on rare occasions, and all of them had been in the Situation Room.

"They're not, and you know it," barked Admiral Wilson. Tim remembered the man from his time as a captain who served under his father in the Sixth Fleet when he lived in Italy.

"Do I? I am unaware of the operation, Admiral," Tim replied, keeping his poker face in place.

"The operation was launched at three am local time, and we all signed off on it at four pm our time, giving the team just five hours to get into positions," General Marks confessed.

"There had been a breach of security regarding these IS terrorists previously, so we decided to keep the circle small," Director Coulson added in.

"So, the five of you decided that I did not need to be told about the mission?" Tim asked, knowing he was not the most liked person amongst the Intelligence and Defence community, with most believing he was too close to foreign government officials. Hearing no response, Tim laid down the law. "Wrong decision. I am a former head of NCIS Intelligence, the deputy chief of the CTOC, NCIS Special agent and have served as the US Ambassador on three different diplomatic missions. And you lot decided I couldn't keep a secret? That I would breach national security?" Tim heard no response to his statement. "The President will be told of this, and I want a full briefing in my office in one hour, by at least two of you, and there better be a very good explanation as to why I wasn't told." With that, Tim ended the call, knowing that Cassie would turn up, with Doctor Janney, as Admiral Wilson and General Marks would not want to explain themselves to Tim, his fathers reputation still commanded a lot of fear, and Director Coulson often struggled to make it to the White House for briefing the President, let alone briefing the Secretary of State. Tim opened his office door, "Blake, get me the President, I do not want to speak to anyone else, not even his chief of staff, just the President." Tim knew the President would be angry over the development, knowing the President, was like himself, dragged into politics, but by a former Attorney General.

Jeffrey MacIntosh had been a civil rights lawyer who had accepted a job on the Senate Foreign Relations committee about thirty years ago, at the request of the AG. From there, he had been pressured into running for his home constituency in California in the House of Representatives. What had once been a safe Republican seat became a safe Democratic seat overnight, when Jeffrey MacIntosh had been elected with an eleven thousand majority. Eight years later, he had been elected to the Senate, ten years after that, he was nominated and confirmed as the Attorney General. When the nominations came around, the party begged him to run, and he accepted, but with certain conditions. Those being he campaigned on his own issues, including traditionally Republican issues, such as tax cuts and abortion. His election result surprised many people, including Tim.

"Tim, the President is on line one," Blake called through the open door. Tim knew the Presidents executive assistant was on line one, no one really expected the President on hold when they called. Tim picked up the phone, and said "Hello."

"Please hold for the President," came the voice of Marcia Harris, the Presidents gatekeeper. Three seconds later, the rich baritone voice of a native Californian came over the handheld speaker.

"Tim, you calling about the Spanish op?"

"Yes, sir. I have just been given the run around by the Navy, Marine, NCIS, CIA and Homeland chiefs, who, in not so many words, feel I couldn't be trusted not to tell Spain what was happening," Tim was not happy with the way the meeting had gone.

"Tim, the argument was not that you would tell them, but that you would argue that we should have told them what we were doing last night," The President valued his Secretary of States opinion, but had been talked around by others in the NSC.

"You would be right, Sir. Spain has always been helpful in the past when it came to these matters. Even giving them a heads up of the operation without any specifics would have been better than nothing, which is what we gave them," Tim was well aware that he would have to smooth a lot of ruffled feathers with the Spanish government after the briefing.

"Tim, I know, trust me, I've been avoiding the Prime Ministers calls all morning," The President admitted.

"Sir, talk to him. You know, as well as I do, that this is the game we play. Speak to him and admit to the op, tell him the results. I'll do some photo ops with him when I'm on the Spanish leg of my European tour. Also, it might help if the Spanish Ambassador was invited to a few dinners at the White House over the next few months," Tim knew that photo ops were some of the most powerful weapons the President and he had. "If we don't get out in front of this, someone in the Spanish government is going to leak the story to the press and we start playing catch up."

"OK, Tim, we do this your way now. I'll speak with Prime Minister Fernandez Diaz, you speak with Ambassador Cardenas, and I'll make sure that any more operations on foreign soil will have your notification to them, even if you don't agree with them," The President knew that Timothy McGee tried to use US forces only as a last resort, rather than the first option.

"Agreed, Mr President," Tim knew this was the best he could get, and Spain would be satisfied.

"Good luck with the Ambassador, Tim. Thank you."

"Thank you, Mr President," With that, the President ended the call, leaving Tim sat at his desk on his own. He wondered what US forces were doing in Spain six hours earlier.

* * *

Two hours later, Tim was sat in his office with Samson Janney and Cassie McGee, his anger was palpable.

"We committed more than fifty people to bring in four people who were merely suspected of this hacking?" Tim was amazed by the full results of the operation, and the size of it. "Have you ever heard of the phrase 'overkill'? My God, no wonder the Spanish government were incensed this morning."

"We felt that the size of the force was necessary due to the fact we couldn't access any wi-fi feed from the building, and the fact that they had installed heaters in the upstairs of the building made infrared scans useless," Dr. Janney had wanted to inform the Secretary of State of the operation, the mans intelligence background gave him a much better working knowledge of the NSC than most people who became members of the Cabinet.

"Apart from the leak of the last operation concerning this group, which happened four years ago, there is still no reason not to have informed the Spanish government or myself. I don't know whose idea it was, nor do I care. If this happens again, whether the President likes it or not, I'll tell the press the whole truth, and we'll see what happens. I know the President has told me that all ops involving US forces on foreign soil will get me a briefing, even if I don't agree with them," Tim was angry that Cassie had barely said anything. Her husband or not, they had worked for the same agency for nearly twelve years, and he thought she would have argued much more than she had done. "Thank you, both, for coming in, but I need to talk with Ambassador Cardenas now. We should all cross our fingers that this meeting goes well, otherwise, he will be giving the press a very good story." Tim would not be angry with the Ambassador if he did tell the press what had happened.

"Tim, again, I'm sorry this happened," With that, the National Security Advisor left the two McGees alone, closing the door on his way out.

"Tim, please," Cassie knew how upset her husband was.

"When did you start following the CIA so blindly?" Tim asked bluntly, knowing that there was a lot of bad blood between the CIA and NCIS.

"I haven't," Cassie began.

"Yes, you have. You have supported the CIA on plenty of missions over the last two and a half years, this is just the latest op," Johnny and Mark had spoken to a few people in the hour before Cassie Yates and Samson Janney had arrived. "I can't believe that you went along with this plan." Tim knew that neither he, Jenny Shepard, Craig, or Vance would have gone along with the plan. Former Director Owen Grainger had taken over after Craigs death, before being replaced by Stan Burley. Stan had taken a transfer to Homeland Security two and a half years earlier, leaving Cassie the post, with the blessing of the Deputy director at the time.

"NCIS and the CIA aren't as independent of each other as you like to think, Tim, and I have to work with them much more now than you ever did, I don't have the luxury of being able to say no to them the way we used to," Cassie knew she was a good Director, but was not in the same league as Burley, Craig or Shepard. "I can't say no without a very good reason, and trust me, those reasons don't come along very often."

"How hard are you looking for those reasons, Director?" Tim would not allow his personal feelings into this matter. "The next time the CIA want to conduct a black ops mission using military personnel, I suggest you think long and hard about why they can't use their own people. Either they don't have the people to use, or they don't want to risk them. Either way, don't do their job for them." Tim hated having to argue like this, but this had become part of their partnership over the last two years. "Thank you, once again, for coming over, Director, but I need to speak with Ambassador Cardenas about this matter." Tim watched as his wife walked out, not even saying goodbye to him. Tim knew their current jobs were taking a heavy toll on their personal relationship, and Tim wondered which one of them would resign in order to keep their marriage together.

* * *

"Todd, I'm very happy to see you committing to the Advanced Placement courses for next semester," Serena Drury was a very happy woman indeed, knowing the young man sat infront of her had struggled to settle into his life in the United States. "Of course, you will need your parents permission for the courses, but these are the courses you can take." Todd smiled, knowing this would give him more of a chance to apply for colleges in Germany. "AP Calculus, AP Computer Science, AP French Literature and Culture, and German Literature and Culture. There is also an AP course for Comparative Government and Politics, if you would be interested," Miss Drury wondered what he would say.

"No, thanks, Miss Drury," She was not surprised, most students avoided the course, unless they were planning on continuing the course at college.

"Well, take these home with you, and bring them back on Monday, all signed, and we will get you setup for September."

"Thanks, Miss Drury," Todd said, grabbing the paperwork and making his way out of the office. Serena Drury had been a guidance counselor for nearly eight years, and had seen many students request places for the AP courses, but most did one or two, not four courses. However, Todd McGee, along with his younger brother, she knew, were different. They had lived in France and Germany, and were naturally gifter when it came to math and computers. She just hoped that the two boys did not have any more upsets in their lives.


End file.
